


but so our path is laid

by wearethewitches



Series: there's no knowing where you'll be swept off to [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Adults, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Bilingual Character(s), Brat Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time), Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Henry is a Little Shit, Magic-Users, POV Emma, Pre-Poly, Savior Emma Swan, Season/Series 01, Slow Build Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, Slow Burn, The Lord of the Rings References, future outlawswanqueen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 00:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18063245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethewitches/pseuds/wearethewitches
Summary: “Snow White had a daughter,” Henry eventually says, sneaking a peek at her as he shows her a picture of a baby in a familiar white blanket – a white blanket with purple ribbon. Emma’s heart thuds painfully in her chest. “They sent her away in a magic wardrobe, built by Gepetto, to the land where they’d be cursed to when the Dark Curse came. In twenty-eight years, she’d come back and save them all. The baby is you, Emma. You’re the Saviour.”-or: Welcome to Storybrooke.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “I don’t like anything here at all.” said Frodo, “step or stone, breath or bone. Earth, air and water all seem accursed. But so our path is laid.”
> 
> “Yes, that’s so,” said Sam, “And we shouldn’t be here at all, if we’d known more about it before we started. But I suppose it’s often that way."
> 
> (The Two Towers, Lord of the Rings - J.R.R. Tolkien)

Softness. A beam of light. A muffled voice.

“ _Emma_ ,” Henry whispers, “ _Emma, are you awake? My mom took Roland to the park-_ ”

Emma stirs at the mention of her son. The guest bed is excruciatingly comfortable, the mattress firm but oh so soft. Squinting, Emma discovers that in the daytime, the guest bedroom gets lit up from the bright sun that shines through the cracks on either side of the blinds, the silk curtains doing little to mitigate the effect.

Henry stands at the door, peeking in. Emma waves half-heartedly, wanting to sleep longer. The door opens wider and he comes in, already dressed for the day, hands twined in his red and grey scarf nervously.

“What happened last night, when you talked to my mom? How did she convince you to take her side?”

“Kid, she’s your mom,” Emma says, as if that answers the question – which in her mind, it does. Henry doesn’t seem to agree.

“She’s _evil_ ,” he insists, “and she manipulates people. She took Roland.”

“I said it was fine,” Emma replies, even though the park was not mentioned in their conversation. _Also, you seem to be projecting, kid_. “Did he have breakfast?”

“Eggs on toast,” Henry tells her.

“Good,” Emma mutters. Sighing inwardly, she pushes back her covers and makes a shooing motion at the ten year old. “What time is it? I need to get dressed.”

“It’s lunchtime, soon. Mom told me to wake you up at twelve. She’s going to get groceries with Roland after going to the park. I wanted to follow her to make sure she wasn’t going to do anything, but I figured you might panic if no-one was here.”

“You’re right about that,” Emma agrees, “and you’re good for staying, because following them really isn’t necessary. I’m sure they’re just going for a long walk. Ro goes for one every morning.”

Henry’s brow furrows. “I thought he was making that up.”

“We go to our local park every morning – even in Boston,” Emma says, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “When’s your mom supposed to be back?”

“Half past twelve. Lunch is at one,” Henry says. “I’m supposed to be in school, but she kept me home. She stayed off work today, too.”

 _That isn’t surprising,_ Emma thinks, _considering he ran off. Regina’s probably feeling clingy._

“Okay. We can wait for them to get back, help with lunch or something. I’m going to get dressed.”

“Okay.”

Henry leaves and Emma sits on the bed for a little longer, waking up. She needs something to drink – coffee, maybe. Regina seems like the type, though if she has decaf instead, Emma wouldn’t protest. Since her pregnancy with Roland, Emma hasn’t drunk much caffeinated stuff, which was a choice she made knowingly – she and Roland eat pretty healthy usually, though pasta and bakery products are a weak spot they both share.

Emma gets dressed. She pulls on yesterday’s jeans, a new, plain white t-shirt and socks, zipping up her boots and leaving off putting on her jacket – it’s not like they’re going out. Emma wonders what Roland’s wearing. She remembers what kind of stuff she put in his suitcase last week and Kira always has Roland’s things laundered before repacking for home, so everything’s clean. It’s an odd feeling, to know that Bobbie’s mother – _Henry’s_ mother – has been caring for her second son the entire morning.

 _She was up as late as me,_ Emma then realises. _Has she slept at all?_

Making her way downstairs, Emma greets Henry again in the entrance to the living room, where they sit and turn on the TV – but they don’t watch it, Henry too busy interrogating her about her life in Boston.

“What was your job?”

“I worked to catch criminals,” she answers.

“You’re a police-woman?” Henry’s eyes widen.

“No, a bail-bondsperson,” Emma corrects, explaining. “I find people who have outstanding fines or jumped bail. A bounty hunter, sort of – but I actually quit yesterday after my last mark got caught.”

“Cool! What are you going to do now? Why were you living in Boston?”

“Boston was a half-way point to New York,” Emma tells him, surprised at his enthusiasm. Taking a moment to turn off the TV, Emma tells him. “I used to live in Tallahassee, Florida. I met Robin there and it’s where we lived and got married and everything. Roland was born there.”

“Where was I born?”

“Phoenix, Arizona,” Emma says.

“Why?”

Emma hesitates. “It’s…complicated.”

“Explain it to me,” Henry begs, so eager and bright-eyed, not knowing how bad the situation really was for Emma.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Henry,” Emma tries to let him down easy. “I can tell you more about other stuff, if you like.”

“What about my dad? You said his name was Robin, right?” Henry calms a little, then, absorbing the name and Emma…Emma doesn’t want him to find out she lied, later. Regina last night hadn’t disagreed with her deception when she told her – she would back her up, maybe. Emma doesn’t want Henry to know about Neal.

So…so she lies anyway, because it’s better than the truth. “Robin Locksley,” Emma says, “or rather, Roland Senior. He was the eleventh Roland Locksley.”

“Wow – and Roland is the twelfth?” Henry asks, getting a nod. He grins. “That’s so cool! I’m Henry, after my granddad. He died before the Curse was cast, so he’s not here. There’s an empty crypt in the cemetery.”

“How do you know it’s empty?” Emma asks, suddenly wary. _Is this kid a graverobber, too?_

Henry shrugs. “I don’t. I just know he’s not here – no-one ever dies, here. No-one’s ever born, either. Ashley at Granny’s Diner’s been pregnant _forever_.”

“I’m sure it seems like that,” Emma replies, having seen no evidence that the town is cursed so far. Even if Henry has a storybook full of stories from the Enchanted Forest…that’s no indication that there’s a curse. Henry could just be projecting. Shifting on the sofa, Emma inclines her head. “Who am I, anyway? If your mom is the Evil Queen from Snow White, then who am I? Wendy Darling?”

Henry looks at her critically. “You’re the Saviour. _This_ is your story and it isn’t finished, yet,” he says, before taking the Book out of his ever-present satchel, flipping through to the same picture he showed her last night. He points. “This is the Evil Queen and Snow White right before the Dark Curse is cast, but it starts earlier than that.”

He flips back through the pages, showing her a rather in-depth history of the outlaw, Snow White, who took back her kingdom with the help of the seven dwarves, her husband Prince Charming, the Blue Fair and Red Riding Hood, her best friend.

“Snow White had a daughter,” Henry eventually says, sneaking a peek at her as he shows her a picture of a baby in a familiar white blanket – a white blanket with purple ribbon. Emma’s heart thuds painfully in her chest. “They sent her away in a magic wardrobe, built by Gepetto, to the land where they’d be cursed to when the Dark Curse came. In twenty-eight years, she’d come back and save them all. The baby is _you_ , Emma. _You’re_ the Saviour.”

“Snow White and Prince Charming – your mom’s nemesis?” Emma asks, getting a staunch nod from the boy. “And it _just_ so happens that she adopted _you,_ my son?”

“How else were you going to get here?” Henry asks her rhetorically. “Mom and I are the only ones who can leave town without consequences. Everyone else is trapped. It’s _magic_ , Emma.”

Emma grits her teeth. The only magic she’s ever seen took her husband from her. “I don’t like it,” she says lowly. “And you’ve still not proven it to me. Telling does nothing. I need proof, Henry, before I do anything – anything at all. I don’t even know what I’d do if it was all real.”

Henry opens his mouth to reply, but the front door opens and they’re both distracted. Emma turns her head, hearing them before she sees them.

“Take off your shoes,” she hears Regina say.

“Okay,” Roland replies and Emma hears a quiet _whump_ noise that is probably Roland dropping onto his little behind to take off his shoes. Henry clambers off the sofa, heading in their direction, so Emma follows, lip twitching at the sight of Roland lining up his shoes beside Henry and Regina’s, brow furrowed like Robin’s used to in concentration.

“Hey, _spourgíti,_ ” Emma attracts his attention, Roland quick to get to his feet, running to her open arms. She lifts him up, pressing kisses to his face and speaking in Greek to him. “ _Did you have fun with Regina, baby?_ ”

“ _We went for a walk around a- around, around a pond!_ ” Roland says, briefly stammering, his words coming out slowly but exuberantly. Henry’s eyes widen beside her, looking shocked at their use of another language. “ _There were ducks and a dog with black spots!_ ”

Regina clears her throat. Emma goes to say thank-you to her, for taking out Roland – but then she surprises her, speaking to her in clear, practiced Greek.

“ _It’s rude to speak in another language when not everyone speaks it,_ ” she says.

Emma blinks at her. “Sorry,” she says, returning to English. “His dad spoke it. I was just asking him about his day. Gotta keep his fluency up.”

“I understand,” Regina’s gaze flickers to Henry, “We speak _Española_ , don’t we, _cariño?_ ”

Henry narrows his eyes at her, crossing his arms – but nods. “Yes,” he says curtly.

“ _Elliniká!_ ” Roland exclaims, before Emma puts him down again. “Can we have lunch, please?”

“Yes,” Regina answers, pulling off her black leather gloves, tucking them into her jacket pocket before taking that off, too. Emma watches her hang her coat up as she speaks, “Henry, could you take the groceries to the kitchen, please?”

Henry darts forwards, picking up the two plastic bags and hauling them to the kitchen, Roland following him wordlessly.

“Roland behaved very well,” Regina tells her. “We usually have dessert after dinner on Fridays and weekends, though Henry is currently grounded, so he won’t be having any – but I planned on allowing Roland some for his good manners, if that was acceptable.”

“Sounds great – did he react okay to you looking after him?” Emma asks, Regina stepping closer. “I mean, he was a little tired last night.”

“I think waking up beside you made it clear to him this home was safe,” Regina says, eyeing her. “And therefore, me. His disposition reminds me of Henry, before…”

“Really?” Emma asks, musing wistfully that maybe _she_ was like that too, before the system ruined her. “Nurture versus nature, I suppose. Henry…” Emma swallows, “He reminds me of his dad, actually. They smile the same.”

Regina hums, glancing towards the kitchen. “Not a happy memory, I see.”

“They were, once, but I was looking through rose-coloured lenses. Henry’s charming.” _Neal was charming._

A sharp look. Greek escapes her mouth and it’s genius, in a twisting, hysterical way. “ _From what little amount of information you have given me, I do not appreciate you comparing my son to that man. Do not do it again._ ”

“ _Henry’s tried to manipulate the both of us. It worries me. I nearly thought he had gone around opening up Henry Senior’s crypt earlier,_ ” Emma replies, catching Regina off-guard.

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

“ _We were talking about how Roland’s named after his dad and Henry told me he was named after his grandfather – but then we got side-tracked, because he said your dad died before a curse was cast and that his grandfather’s body wasn’t in the crypt._ ”

Regina blanches, looking shaken by her words. “ _He said that? His grandfather’s body wasn’t in the crypt?_ ”

“ _He guessed,_ ” Emma corrects, before deciding to outright ask her. Henry said the residents didn’t remember – what if that included the caster? If it didn’t and she lied, Emma would know. It takes her a second, though, translating it right in her head. “ _Regina,_ ” she starts, “ _Henry believes you’re the Evil Queen from the Enchanted Forest. He says you cast the Dark Curse and that you and him are the only two people who can leave the town._ ”

“I beg your pardon?” Regina stares at her, slipping back into English as she lets out a laugh. “Where is he getting those ideas from?”

Emma smiles thinly. Her radar is buzzing, waiting to catch her out in a lie. “Same place that says I’m a prophesised Saviour meant to break the curse. It’s funny, actually – in the picture of Snow White’s baby there’s this blanket that looks just like mine, even has the same name on it. ‘Emma’,” she describes, watching Regina slowly lose her smile. “Crazy, right?”

“Yes. Crazy,” Regina states and _she was so close._

“Well, Your Majesty,” Emma jokes, smiling wide as she jerks her head towards the kitchen. “What’s for lunch? Can I help out any?”

Regina shakes off her stiff demeanour, giving Emma a measured smile. “Yes, of course. Follow me.”

And Emma follows the Evil Queen into her kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Well, maybe this is your chance to change things up a bit,_ ” Annabel offers, voice crackling over the line. “ _If Henry’s so adamant that he wants you in his life, there’s not much she can do without upsetting him._ ”

“But I don’t want to interfere in his life,” Emma sighs.

“ _He’s kind of dragged you into it already, sweetheart._ ”

Dipping a fry into her milkshake, Emma ponders her situation. She’s staying in the same house as her firstborn with his mother, who’s a dark sorceress that cursed a small population into unhappy, mediocre existences. To top it off, Roland is bedazzled by said dark sorceress and would probably be asking to see Henry and Henry’s mother for weeks, if not months to come.

“We’re leaving Sunday,” Emma tells her friend, shifting her phone to her other year as she sees Roland having trouble with his chicken nuggets. Cutting them up with one hand, she continues to speak to Annabel. “Regina’s going to be on the lookout for when Henry tries to escape again. Apparently it’s a given, now. He’s a little shit like that.”

“ _He sounds like you,_ ” Annabel says and the truth hits home.

“I know,” Emma mumbles, before Roland discards his fork and starts eating with his hands. “ _Spourgíti_ , no. Use your cutlery.”

Roland grumbles, but picks up his fork, stabbing one viciously and bringing it to his mouth.

“ _How is Ro-Ro? Does he like Henry?_ ”

“Loves him,” Emma replies, “Follows him around like a duck.”

“ _We’ve got to expand the bird metaphors for this boy,_ ” Annabel jokes. “ _It’s Robin’s fault._ ”

“Dude, he was asking for Roland to be picked on when he gave himself that nickname,” Emma replies with a curl to her lip.

“ _Seriously, though, we should give him more bird-related nicknames._ ” Annabel insists, before exclaiming, “ _Oh my god, can we call him ‘duckling’? I love ducks! And- and ‘peristéri’ and ‘geráki’?_ ”

“What do those even mean?” Emma asks with a small laugh.

“ _Pigeon and hawk,_ ” Annabel says in a satisfactory manner. “ _I have thought a lot about this._ ”

“I am not calling my son a pigeon,” she replies, glancing down at him. “Ro, guess what Auntie Annabel is trying to convince me to call you?”

“What?” Roland asks, looking up from his nuggets and peas.

Emma pauses dramatically. “A pigeon!”

Roland lets out a shrieking cackle that attracts attention from the surrounding patrons in the diner. “I’m not a pigeon! I’m a _spourgíti!_ ”

“ _Yes, you’re a sparrow, aren’t you? You’re not a silly pigeon,_ ” Emma tickles him lightly, using the new word Annabel had provided her. “ _Are you a pigeon, little sparrow? Are you a silly little pigeon?_ ”

“ _No, no, I’m a sparrow! Not a pigeon,_ ” Roland grins, using the new word he’d correctly identified as Greek for ‘pigeon’ before going back to eating his nuggets.

Annabel huffs. “ _Ruin my fun, why don’t you?_ ”

“It’s my favourite thing to do,” Emma jokes, sipping her milkshake.

“ _I’ll take my vengeance,_ ” Annabel threatens.

“Try me,” Emma goads, before Henry returns from the bathroom, slipping into the booth and looking longingly at Emma’s milkshake. Glancing off to where Regina is talking furiously with Mary-Margaret Blanchard, from whom Harry had stolen a credit card and been given his storybook, Emma sneakily nudges her plastic dish of fries closer to him. He gleefully snags a small handful, putting all of them in his mouth and chewing furiously, hiding his face behind his hands.

“ _I will – watch your bank account inflate with my vengeance, Emma Swan._ ”

Emma nearly chokes on her fries. “Annabel! No, don’t do that-”

“ _Too late. I’ve decided,_ ” Annabel says glee. “ _I love throwing money at my problems. Be a dear and buy Roland a gift from me? Call it an early birthday present. Though I’ve already bought him that, he can have another one._ ”

Emma groans, putting a hand to her head. “Stop. Please.”

“ _Never,_ ” Annabel promises with glee. “ _I’m your only friend, apart from Jacob. It’s my duty. Now, give the phone to my godson._ ”

“I hate you,” Emma grumbles.

“ _Love you, too, Ems._ ”

Emma grumbles a little more before giving Roland the phone. “Auntie Annabel wants to talk to you.”

“Annabel!” Roland exclaims gleefully, taking her cell with two hands and pressing it to his ear. Henry watches on in interest.

“Who’s Annabel?” he asks after swallowing his ginormous mouthful of fries.

“My best friend. She and her husband are Roland’s godparents.”

Henry looks morose. “I don’t have godparents.”

“Maybe you don’t need them,” Emma offers him something of an answer. “We owe them a lot. They’ve been amazing, over the years. Roland’s really close to them both. He calls their parents his grandparents, seeing as I don’t have them.”

Henry purses his lips. “But you do. Snow White and Prince Charming-”

“Kid,” Emma interrupts with a sigh, not quite believing his tale – even if it _is_ written in the Book. “Enough, okay. That discussion is tabled. We have other things to sort out.”

“Like what?” Henry asks, perplexed.

“Like,” Regina starts, coming up behind her, conversation finished, “how you won’t be taking advantage of Miss Blanchard again, regardless of her willingness to help you. Like how you won’t be running away again. Like how Emma has _agreed_ with me that visiting her and asking her to come here with you, especially when she’s responsible for another child, was too far.”

Regina sits at the booth, Henry cringing as he has to move further up the seat, trapped into the corner. Emma meets eyes with Regina, nodding, trying to show her support. Regina tilts her chin upwards though, sneering slightly before looking at Henry with dark eyes.

“Henry,” she begins. “You’ll be seeing Doctor Hopper three times a week from now on. This isn’t punishment – this is necessary. Obviously you distrust me and Dr Hopper can be your confident, I hope.”

Emma wonders who Dr Hopper is, though from the context, he sounds like some kind of shrink. Henry looks mulishly at the table.

“Your computer will also be confiscated until further notice,” she continues in a clipped tone. Henry doesn’t react. “As will your comics.”

 _He’s twitching,_ Emma notes. _Comic fan, huh?_

“And,” Regina says, voice darkening, “you will stay in the house, from now on. You won’t be allowed to roam. I will drop you off and pick you up from Dr Hopper’s office and drive you to and from school every day. On weekends, you can go outside, but no further than the property line. Do you understand why I’m making these new rules, Henry?”

“Because you’re evil,” he bites, glaring at her.

“No,” she replies calmly, “because you’ve betrayed the trust people have placed in you. Me, for one – Miss Blanchard, for another. You’ve schemed and manipulated people who don’t deserve it. Emma is one of those people.”

To Emma, Regina looks like she’s swallowing a lemon with how sour her face is, but her voice betrays none of it and Henry isn’t looking at her, anyway, glare glued to the table again.

“How would you like to be dragged to the other end of the state with no warning?” Regina asks, “How would you like it if you were put under pressure to keep not one, but two people safe? Emma did a good thing bringing you back to me, even if you don’t believe it. I’m your mother and-”

“You’re _not_ my mom,” Henry interrupts, growling. “And I don’t want you!”

“Hey,” Emma snaps, angry on Regina’s behalf. Regina puts up a hand to halt her, eyes locked on Henry.

“You may feel that way, but I love you very much and your happiness is precious to me. It hurts me to see you acting like this.”

“Good.”

“I know the last year has been hard for you, but was it a surprise?” Regina asks, taking a different route than Emma thought she would. “I was never married, you know that. You asked about your father when you were little and I told you that you didn’t have one.”

“But I _do,_ ” Henry starts, face twisting as he glances at Emma, looking to Regina with an eager face. “He’s called Robin and he’s not dead, just not here.”

“You still don’t have him,” Regina says quietly. “You never had a father. You’ve been having trouble with being adopted. What is it that bothers you so much? Emma giving you away? Or is it really me? Me, your mother, who loves you and cares for you and always has.”

Henry looks conflicted – but only for a moment. His shoulders straighten and he looks at Regina with cold-faced determination.

“You’re the Evil Queen and you did bad things. You _are_ my mom, but do I deserve to be _your_ son?”

Regina flinches back like Henry’s words were a physical blow. Emma’s eyes widen at his speech, but she’s a little surprised that Regina’s reaction is so obvious. The woman had lied about thinking the Dark Curse was crazy and while that’s no proof she remembers, _this_ reaction certainly is.

“I’m the Luke Skywalker to your Darth Vader,” Henry says, like the comparison matters. “You don’t have a chance of redemption, though.”

“Redemp-” Regina starts, before abruptly pulling herself together. “Henry, enough. Even if _any_ of that nonsense was true, I’ve been living here in this town since before you were even born and I haven’t done anything that could be construed as _evil_.”

“That doesn’t matter – you still did the _other_ stuff,” he argues, even as Emma stiffens at her lie.

“And why doesn’t it matter?” Regina raises an eyebrow. “You’re saying that someone can’t have happiness after years of solace and peace. Forget about me and think about what you’re saying, Henry. It’s cruel and thoughtless – _evil._ ”

“I’m not evil,” Henry says hotly. “You’re trying to manipulate me.”

“For your own good. Parents do that, for their children. It’s part of growing up,” Regina replies and Emma thinks, _not a good part, though._ Emma knows manipulative parents and while what Regina is doing now is probably a good thing in the long run to get Henry to see the havoc he’s causing, she knows it can get out of hand. Henry isn’t an adult, he’s a child.

Then there’s the fact that Regina lied about not having done evil during her time in Storybrooke. Emma tries not to wonder about it and instead tries to solve her current problems.

“Like when parents want kids to eat their vegetables,” she interjects, trying to get Henry to see her machinations in a more positive light.

Henry gives her a dirty look, though. “This isn’t about _vegetables_ ,” he says scornfully, sounding just like Regina, “this is about the Curse. She’s evil and you’re enabling her!”

“An interesting choice in words,” Regina says flatly. “Why would you say that?”

“Because she’s the Saviour!” Henry bursts out, “She already told you! I heard!”

“Ah, the eavesdropping,” Regina sighs in a faux-tired manner. _She’s really at the end of her tether, here,_ Emma realises. “I suppose it’s another thing for you to talk about with Dr Hopper.”

“It’s for a good cause!”

“Good intentions pave the road to hell,” Emma says quietly. Henry stops suddenly, looking at her. It takes a second for her to realise how her words might impact him, what with the previous conversation. “It means that people who do bad things for good reasons end up bad themselves. Regina’s trying to help you, Henry.”

Emma glances at Regina, expecting her to speak – expecting her to tell her without words to be quiet, to let her handle it. But Regina is looking at her with a kind of weary acceptance. Her head jerks minutely and Emma glances back at Henry, who is watching her intently, quiet.

 _Oh fuck, it’s on me,_ she realises. Clearing her throat, Emma tries to think of what to say to make him see clearly.

“You think your mom is evil. Okay, then. Let’s say she is. What is she doing right now?” she sees Henry go to answer, expression vehement and puts up a hand, stopping him. “No, don’t speak. Listen to me. Your mom is trying to stop you going down a road she desperately does not want you going down. Maybe…maybe it’s one she went down herself,” Emma glances at Regina and she’s hit the nail on the head, she thinks. Regina’s expression says it all, her eyes dark as she leans back in the booth, watching Emma silently.

“She’s _evil,_ ” Henry says.

“Fine. She’s evil. Evil people can still do good things. It’s called being an anti-villain. Their goal is good, but the way they get there isn’t. Does that make sense to you?”

Henry grips his scarf nervously, glancing at his mother. “But what about the Curse? How is that good?”

“It’s good for her and kid, the world isn’t black and white,” Emma tells him. “You really think Snow White is all good? No-one is pure, Henry. We all have our dark sides. Now, I don’t know why or how this Dark Curse is cast, but I want you to get on with your mom. I gave you up to give you a better chance, because I knew it wasn’t with me. You were happy before reading about all this in your storybook. What changed?”

“Your perception of me,” Regina answers, speaking to Henry. She’s less authoritative than before, looking at Henry with a blank expression. “I’m still the same person I was before you read that book. I’m still your mother and I still love you. Emma’s right – you _were_ happy.”

“But I _wasn’t,_ ” Henry whispers, face screwing up to hold back tears. “I’m the only kid who gets older. Every time I move up in school, I leave my friends behind. Time’s frozen. Even _you_ haven’t changed. What’s going to happen when I get older? We have to break the Curse, _please_ Mom.”

Regina looks stricken. Emma feels sick.

“Mommy,” Roland gives Emma her phone back, “Auntie Annabel wants to talk to you.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Emma says quietly, putting the phone to her ear. “Ann?”

“ _Ems?_ ”

“I have to go, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“ _Sure, sweetheart. Love you lots!_ ”

“Love you, too – bye,” Emma says, listening to Annabel give her a cheery farewell before hanging up. She watches Regina and Henry stare at each other, Roland wriggling and climbing onto her lap, reaching for her milkshake. She lets him drink it, knowing this moment is important.

Regina looks away.

“There is no Curse, Henry. You’re not a child anymore – stop believing in fairytales.”


	3. Chapter 3

“ _Did_ you cast a Curse?” Emma asks when Henry and Roland are asleep in bed. Sitting in Regina’s living room with a glass of apple cider, Emma waits for an answer, not sure what to expect.

“You believe him, then?” Regina returns – which, fair enough, is something a normal person would ask.

“I don’t have to,” Emma says. “I know the Enchanted Forest is real.”

Regina makes a face, a mixture of anger and all-knowing crossing her eyes. “Locksley,” she says, hand curling around her glass.

“Locksley,” Emma confirms. “Robin’s real name was Roland.”

“I see,” Regina mumbles, sipping her cider. “How did he get here?”

“An experiment,” Emma says, suspicious, asking in her head, _How did **you** get here?_

“Rumple was his liege-lord,” Regina mutters, almost to herself. It’s strange for Emma to hear someone else talk about all the…all the _magic_ stuff, all the _Enchanted Forest_ stuff she couldn’t convince herself to believe in until Robin was pulled back through a portal in front of her eyes. “Sir Roland was said to have died.”

“The Dark One had him come to the ‘Land Without Magic’,” Emma quotes, trying out the cider. It’s good. “He got pulled back a couple of years later. Time passes differently.”

“Maybe with that spell,” Regina says, almost lecturing as she continues, “Each spell is different. Whatever Rumplestiltskin did to send him here must have included an aspect that bent time…he was looking for something.”

“Looking for what?” Emma startles, frowning.

Regina glances at her. “Who knows. Only Rumple – or perhaps your partner.”

“Robin had no idea,” Emma says, slightly distracted as she tries to remember anything Robin ever told her about his ‘liege’. “He was a vassal; he didn’t ask the questions.”

“I see,” Regina replies, swirling her drink, still watching Emma with dark eyes. “Have you ever considered that perhaps, he was looking for _you_ , the apparent ‘Saviour’?”

“Robin wouldn’t do that,” Emma immediately says.

“Are you sure?” Regina raises an eyebrow.

“I’m sure,” Emma replies, glaring slightly. “He was seventeen when he showed up here. I helped him get a life, let him live in my apartment – he worked multiple jobs to support himself. Don’t you _dare_ say anything like that about him. He was a good person.”

“Fine,” Regina tilts her chin. “I believe you. Don’t get snappy.”

Emma bites her tongue. “Sorry.”

“No trouble,” Regina says, before replying to her question, finally. “I did cast the Curse that brought everyone here. Henry’s right, of course. I just don’t know how his storybook came into being – how Mary-Margaret gave it to him when by rights, she shouldn’t have it all.”

“Really?” Emma questions.

“Really,” Regina nods. “I designed every aspect of this reality. Storybrooke is eternally frozen, like he says.”

Emma twitches. “Why come clean to me?”

“Because you’re the only one who can break it and I’d rather you not,” Regina says succinctly, putting down her drink and leaning forwards. “Miss Swan. It’s clear to me that you believe enough in magic to collapse the Dark Curse, if you had the means. You’re also Henry’s birthmother and seem to want me to remain close to him.”

“I want to know what you did,” Emma suddenly cuts in. “Earlier, you lied – you said you hadn’t done anything evil in all your time in Storybrooke. I know when people are lying. I always have.”

“A strange gift,” Regina says shortly, before sitting up stiffly. “When the town first appeared, there were campers within the boundary line. I disposed of one of them.”

Emma recoils. “ _Disposed?_ You mean-”

“Of course. I killed him, plain and simple,” Regina rolls her eyes, taking up her glass again and downing the lot. “I don’t regret it – or I didn’t, until now. I’ve changed since then. I want Henry to remain mine and solely _mine_ and if that means making nice with you, I will”

“So what?” Emma says, voice strangled, “You want to be friends?”

“Acquaintances will do,” Regina replies, lip curling in disgust.

“Right,” Emma says faintly, before standing. “Please excuse me.”

“You’re excused.”

* * *

The next morning, Emma takes Roland out into town, driving to Main Street and walking to the nearby park. Roland exuberantly waves at everyone they pass, from old women to the geese in the pond. Emma can’t help but relax around her son, not expecting for the town to be on alert again when they turn into Granny’s Diner.

“Have you seen Henry?” asks the waitress, who Emma thinks is called Ruby. “He’s gone missing again.”

“Shit, no, sorry,” Emma replies, stunned. Hesitating, because Roland had asked for a pastry for lunch, Emma eventually decides that it would be best if they went back to Mifflin Street. “Got to go.”

“Mommy?” Roland frowns when she swings him up onto her hip, stalking out of the diner.

“We’re going back to Regina’s for lunch, _spourgíti_ ,” Emma tells him. “You can have one of her apples, if you ask nicely.”

Roland brightens, “Big red?”

“Yes, the big red apples,” Emma confirms, buckling him into his car-seat. She drives back to Mifflin Street, seeing the empty driveway. Depositing Roland in front of the TV with an apple, she searches around, finding a notebook by the house phone. Inside, as she expected, are emergency numbers for Henry – including Regina’s cell.

Calling, Emma waits for her to pick up, expecting the harsh _“Hello?_ ”

“I heard Henry had run away again,” she says.

“ _Miss Swan,_ ” Regina replies, terse. “ _Do you know where he is?_ ”

“No,” Emma answers. “Ro and I were at the park. Have you checked his friend’s?”

“ _He doesn’t have friends._ ”

“His computer?”

“ _As I am currently in the sheriff’s car searching for him, no, I am not,_ ” Regina snaps.

“Woah, calm down – I’ll check again and call you back,” Emma says, listening to Regina’s rushed goodbye before she hangs up. Then she goes upstairs to Henry’s room like she did yesterday morning when she checked his computer the first time, before they went out to Granny’s Diner to intercept Mary-Margaret Blanchard and give back her credit card.

Henry hasn’t been on his computer again, though – not if Emma’s reading this right. Stumped – and a little surprised at how Regina expects Henry not to touch his computer when he’s banned from it, while it’s still in his room – Emma texts Regina, telling her about her failure.

“Where’s Henry?” Roland asks when she sits down with him. Emma’s lip twitches.

“Listening in, huh?”

“Where’s Henry?” Roland asks again, more worried than before.

“We don’t know, kiddo. It’s hard to find someone who doesn’t want to be found.”

Roland snuggles into her side. “Like your crim’nals?”

“Yeah, like my criminals,” Emma runs a hand through his hair, kissing the top of his head. “I love you.”

“Love you,” Roland chirps, before sitting away from her, reaching for his apple on the coffee table. Emma watches him crunch away, watching for signs that he’s finished. He’s not yet had lunch because of the newest Henry dilemma and Emma is hesitant to go through Regina’s cupboard in search of toddler-friendly food – Roland might be a ‘big boy’ now, but he’s not into complex food yet. Even just a certain vegetable in soup could put him off his entire meal.

 _We’ll be back home soon,_ Emma tries to convince herself, but something in her is already set on staying – if not for Henry, then for Roland. All these people, Regina included, are from the Enchanted Forest. What if people here _know_ Robin? What if he’s here himself? Or his mother – oh, if Roland’s grandmother is here, then Emma has no idea what she’ll do.

She doesn’t like thinking about the ‘Saviour’ aspect of it all.

Henry is dead set on her breaking this curse – the Dark Curse, as Regina called it, with no exaggeration on her part – and part of Emma wants to. No-one deserves to live like this, trapped forever and not able to remember their true pasts and families. But then again, Emma’s said it already and that’s the fact that she has no idea _why_ it was cast. For all Emma knows, Regina is a victim in all of this. It’s unlikely – she _killed_ a man just because they came near Storybrooke – but Emma would rather hear everyone’s version of the story before immediately going along with Henry’s.

Sighing to herself, Emma pushes off the couch and goes back to the phonebook. She scans each of the numbers, plugging more than a few into her phone. Sheriff Graham Humbert’s number seems useful enough to know – as does Mary-Margaret Blanchard’s. Henry trusts her.

Emma cocks her head.

_Henry trusts her._

Lip twitching, Emma shakes her head before calling her, glancing at the clock in the hall as she does. _Lunchtime,_ she thinks, recalling Regina’s stern voice describing Henry’s school day. Miss Blanchard picks up after the second ring.

“ _Mary-Margaret, how can I help?_ ” Miss Blanchard answers cheerily.

“Hi,” Emma starts, “Miss Blanchard, you’re Henry Mills’ teacher, right?”

“ _I am,_ ” she says, obviously more reserved. “ _I already told the Sheriff I don’t know where he is. Who is this?_ ”

“Emma Swan,” Emma replies. “I’m…I’m his birthmother. You might have seen me with Henry and Regina yesterday.”

“ _You let him eat your fries,_ ” Miss Blanchard recalls, chuckling slightly. Emma smiles to herself.

“You saw that, huh? Don’t tell Regina.”

“ _Cross my heart,_ ” she promises. “ _What’s the problem?_ ”

“You might have already guessed,” Emma confesses, leaning up against the wall. She watches Roland as he climbs off the sofa, moving around the coffee table to stand close to Regina’s large television.

Miss Blanchard sighs. _“Henry,_ ” she says, voice soft. “ _He’s so alone, you know. He’s not good at making friends._ ”

Henry’s words come to mind. _I’m the only kid who gets older. Every time I move up in school, I leave my friends behind._ Emma winces on his behalf. It would explain why he hasn’t got anyone to connect to.

“Yeah,” Emma says wearily. “Clever kid, but kind of antisocial. Reminds me of someone I know.”

Miss Blanchard chuckles. “ _You should be more optimistic…although, considering Regina’s own tendencies, maybe it’s not much of a surprise. She’s quite uncomfortable around people._ ”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Emma replies, pondering it. Regina had been stiff around her and melted whenever Henry was about – Emma thought it was just the obvious, considering who Emma is, not that Regina might be somewhat of a loner herself.

“ _Oh yes. She clearly loves Henry, but sometimes I think he needs more support,_ ” Miss Blanchard says in a matter-of-fact tone. “ _It’s why I gave him the storybook._ ”

“Yeah, about that-” Emma starts, going to ask her where she got it, when Miss Blanchard continues on, unable to be interrupted.

“ _The most important thing anyone can have is hope. Believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing._ ”

“Right,” Emma mumbles. “How’s a book supposed to give him hope?”

“ _What do you think stories are for? These stories – the classics? There’s a reason we all know them. They’re a way for us to deal with our world; a world that doesn’t always make sense. See, Henry hasn’t had the easiest life._ ”

“Regina pushes him, but I think that’s for the best, if he’s going to act out like this,” Emma argues.

“ _No – no, that’s not what I meant,_ ” Miss Blanchard says awkwardly, pausing before she continues. “ _Henry’s like any adopted child, Miss Swan. He wrestles with the most basic question they all inevitably face: why would anyone give me away?_ ”

“That’s not always a simple question,” Emma replies, feeling slightly shamed, stomach roiling. _Am I really why Henry’s acting like this? Even if the Book wasn’t true in a way…_

“ _Oh!_ ” Miss Blanchard exclaims, sounding apologetic. “ _I am_ so _sorry. I’m so sorry – I didn’t mean in any way to judge you…_ ”

“It’s- it’s okay,” Emma clears her throat. “He probably feels a little pissed at me too, which is fair. I mean, I have another kid now, one I kept.”

“ _What’s his name?_ ” she asks kindly and it’s not judging in any way – Emma almost wants to meet up with her, sometime.

“Roland,” she says, attracting his attention briefly, before he sees her on the phone. “His name’s Roland.”

“ _That’s a lovely name,_ ” Miss Blanchard replies, sighing. “ _I wish I had children._ ”

“It’s not that hard,” Emma jokes, getting a snort and a giggle from the middle-school teacher. “Seriously,” Emma grins.

“ _Oh, if only. Storybrooke is tiny!_ ” Miss Blanchard laughs again, before a comfortable silence grows between them. Eventually, she hums happily. “ _You know, it’s quite funny, but if I had a daughter, I think I’d call her Emma, too._ ”

“I’m flattered,” Emma says, before her words really kick in. It’s like a punch to the gut and she almost drops her phone. _Oh,_ she thinks weakly, feeling sick. _Oh._

“ _If you’re really trying to find Henry,_ ” Miss Blanchard continues, oblivious to Emma’s internal turmoil, “ _I’ve got a recommendation._ ”

“What?” Emma asks quietly, remembering her pale skin and dark hair; recalling the story of Snow White and Prince Charming who gave up their baby girl so she could grow up and save them all. Snow White whispers to her now, so happy and not herself, knowing only the life of Mary-Margaret Blanchard, school-teacher and confidant of her grandson, who was adopted by her nemesis.

“ _If I were you_ ,” Emma’s mother says, “ _I’d try his castle._ ”


End file.
